in　grossest　superstition？　　It　is　impossiblebut　yet　their　life！
  their　life！　It　is　normal。　　It　is　happy！　　It　is　an　answer　to　the
  question！
  Little　by　little；　Tolstoy　came　to　the　settled　convictionhe　says
  it　took　him　two　years　to　arrive　therethat　his　trouble　had　not
  been　with　life　in　general；　not　with　the　common　life　of　common
  men；　but　with　the　life　of　the　upper；　intellectual；　artistic
  classes；　the　life　which　he　had　personally　always　led；　the
  cerebral　life；　the　life　of　conventionality；　artificiality；　and
  personal　ambition。　　He　had　been　living　wrongly　and　must　change。
  To　work　for　animal　needs；　to　abjure　lies　and　vanities；　to　relieve
  common　wants；　to　be　simple；　to　believe　in　God；　therein　lay
  happiness　again。
  〃I　remember；〃　he　says；　〃one　day　in　early　spring；　I　was　alone　in
  the　forest；　lending　my　ear　to　its　mysterious　noises。　　I　listened；
  and　my　thought　went　back　to　what　for　these　three　years　it　always
  was　busy　withthe　quest　of　God。　　But　the　idea　of　him；　I　said；
  how　did　I　ever　come　by　the　idea？
  〃And　again　there　arose　in　me；　with　this　thought；　glad　aspirations
  towards　life。　　Everything　in　me　awoke　and　received　a　meaning。　　。
  。　。Why　do　I　look　farther？　　a　voice　within　me　asked。　　He　is　there：
  he；　without　whom　one　cannot　live。　　To　acknowledge　God　and　to　live
  are　one　and　the　same　thing。　　God　is　what　life　is。　　Well；　then！
  live；　seek　God；　and　there　will　be　no　life　without　him。　。　。　。
  〃After　this；　things　cleared　up　within　me　and　about　me　better　than
  ever；　and　the　light　has　never　wholly　died　away。　　I　was　saved　from
  suicide。　　Just　how　or　when　the　change　took　place　I　cannot　tell。
  But　as　insensibly　and　gradually　as　the　force　of　life　had　been
  annulled　within　me；　and　I　had　reached　my　moral　death…bed；　just　as
  gradually　and　imperceptibly　did　the　energy　of　life　come　back。
  And　what　was　strange　was　that　this　energy　that　came　back　was
  nothing　new。　　It　was　my　ancient　juvenile　force　of　faith；　the
  belief　that　the　sole　purpose　of　my　life　was　to　be　BETTER。　　　I
  gave　up　the　life　of　the　conventional　world；　recognizing　it　to　be
  no　life；　but　a　parody　on　life；　which　its　superfluities　simply
  keep　us　from　comprehending；〃and　Tolstoy　thereupon　embraced　the
  life　of　the　peasants；　and　has　felt　right　and　happy；　or　at　least
  relatively　so；　ever　since。＇96＇
  ＇96＇　I　have　considerably　abridged　Tolstoy's　words　in　my
  translation。
  As　I　interpret　his　melancholy；　then；　it　was　not　merely　an
  accidental　vitiation　of　his　humors；　though　it　was　doubtless　also
  that。　　It　was　logically　called　for　by　the　clash　between　his　inner
  character　and　his　outer　activities　and　aims。　　Although　a　literary
  artist；　Tolstoy　was　one　of　those　primitive　oaks　of　men　to　whom
  the　superfluities　and　insincerities；　the　cupidities；
  complications；　and　cruelties　of　our　polite　civilization　are
  profoundly　unsatisfying；　and　for　whom　the　eternal　veracities　lie
  with　more　natural　and　animal　things。　　His　crisis　was　the　getting
  of　his　soul　in　order；　the　discovery　of　its　genuine　habitat　and
  vocation；　the　escape　from　falsehoods　into　what　for　him　were　ways
  of　truth。　　It　was　a　case　of　heterogeneous　personality　tardily　and
  slowly　finding　its　unity　and　level。　And　though　not　many　of　us　can
  imitate　Tolstoy；　not　having　enough；　perhaps；　of　the　aboriginal
  human　marrow　in　our　bones；　most　of　us　may　at　least　feel　as　if　it
  might　be　better　for　us　if　we　could。
  Bunyan's　recovery　seems　to　have　been　even　slower。　　For　years
  together　he　was　alternately　haunted　with　texts　of　Scripture；　now
  up　and　now　down；　but　at　last　with　an　ever　growing　relief　in　his
  salvation　through　the　blood　of　Christ。
  〃My　peace　would　be　in　and　out　twenty　times　a　day；　comfort　now　and
  trouble　presently；　peace　now　and　before　I　could　go　a　furlong　as
  full　of　guilt　and　fear　as　ever　heart　could　hold。〃　　When　a　good
  text　comes　home　to　him；　〃This；〃　he　writes；　〃gave　me　good
  encouragement　for　the　space　of　two　or　three　hours〃；　or　〃This　was
  a　good　day　to　me；　I　hope　I　shall　not　forget　it〃；　or　〃The　glory　of
  these　words　was　then　so　weighty　on　me　that　I　was　ready　to　swoon
  as　I　sat；　yet；　not　with　grief　and　trouble；　but　with　solid　joy　and
  peace〃；　or　〃This　made　a　strange　seizure　on　my　spirit；　it　brought
  light　with　it；　and　commanded　a　silence　in　my　heart　of　all　those
  tumultuous　thoughts　that　before　did　use；　like　masterless
  hell…hounds；　to　roar　and　bellow　and　make　a　hideous　noise　within
  me。　　It　showed　me　that　Jesus　Christ　had　not　quite　forsaken　and
  cast　off　my　Soul。〃
  Such　periods　accumulate　until　he　can　write：　　〃And　now　remained
  only　the　hinder　part　of　the　tempest；　for　the　thunder　was　gone
  beyond　me；　only　some　drops　would　still　remain；　that　now　and　then
  would　fall　upon　me〃；and　at　last：　　〃Now　did　my　chains　fall　off
  my　legs　indeed；　I　was　loosed　from　my　afflictions　and　irons；　my
  temptations　also　fled　away；　so　that　from　that　time；　those
  dreadful　Scriptures　of　God　left　off　to　trouble　me；　now　went　I
  also　home　rejoicing；　for　the　grace　and　love　of　God。　。　。　。　Now
  could　I　see　myself　in　Heaven　and　Earth　at　once；　in　Heaven　by　my
  Christ；　by　my　Head；　by　my　Righteousness　and　Life；　though　on
  Earth　by　my　body　or　person。　。　。　。　　Christ　was　a　precious　Christ
  to　my　soul　that　night；　I　could　scarce　lie　in　my　bed　for　joy　and
  peace　and　triumph　through　Christ。〃
  Bunyan　became　a　minister　of　the　gospel；　and　in　spite　of　his
  neurotic　constitution；　and　of　the　twelve　years　he　lay　in　prison
  for　his　non…conformity；　his　life　was　turned　to　active　use。　　He
  was　a　peacemaker　and　doer　of　good；　and　the　immortal　Allegory
  which　he　wrote　has　brought　the　very　spirit　of　religious　patience
  home　to　English　hearts。
  But　neither　Bunyan　nor　Tolstoy　could　become　what　we　have　called
  healthy…minded。　　They　had　drunk　too　deeply　of　the　cup　of
  bitterness　ever　to　forget　its　taste；　and　their　redemption　is　into
  a　universe　two　stories　deep。　　Each　of　them　realized　a　good　which
  broke　the　effective　edge　of　his　sadness；　yet　the　sadness　was
  preserved　as　a　minor　ingredient　in　the　heart　of　the　faith　by
  which　it　was　overcome。　　The　fact　of　interest　for　us　is　that　as　a
  matter　of　fact　they　could　and　did　find　SOMETHING　welling　up　in
  the　inner　reaches　of　their　consciousness；　by　which　such　extreme
  sadness　could　be　overcome。　　Tolstoy　does　well　to　talk　of　it　as
  THAT　BY　WHICH　MEN　LIVE；　for　that　is　exactly　what　it　is；　a
  stimulus；　an　excitement；　a　faith；　a　force　that　re…infuses　the
  positive　willingness　to　live；　even　in　full　presence　of　the　evil
  perceptions　that　erewhile　made　life　seem　unbearable。　　For
  Tolstoy's　perceptions　of　evil　appear　within　their　sphere　to　have
  remained　unmodified。　　His　later　works　show　him　implacable　to　the
  whole　system　of　official　values：　　the　ignobility　of　fashionable
  life；　the　infamies　of　empire；　the　spuriousness　of　the　church；　the
  vain　conceit　of　the　professions；　the　meannesses　and　cruelties
  that　go　with　great　success；　and　every　other　pompous　crime　and
  lying　institution　of　this　world。　　To　all　patience　with　such
  things　his　experience　has　been　for　him　a　perroanent　ministry　of
  death。
  Bunyan　also　leaves　this　world　to　the　enemy。
  〃I　must　first　pass　a　sentence　of　death；〃　he　says；　〃upon
  everything　that　can　properly　be　called　a　thing　of　this　life；　even
  to　reckon　myself；　my　wife；　my　children；　my　health；　my　enjoyments；
  and　all；　as　dead　to　me；　and　myself　as　dead　to　them；　to　trust　in
  God　through　Christ；　as　touching　the　world　to　come；　and　as
  touching　this　world；　to　count　the　grave　my　house；　to　make　my　bed
  in　darkness；　and　to　say　to　corruption；　Thou　art　my　father　and　to
  the　worm；　Thou　art　my　mother　and　sister。　。　。　。　　The　parting　with
  my　wife　and　my　poor　children　hath　often　been　to　me　as　the　pulling
  of　my　flesh　from　my　bones；　especially　my　poor　blind　child　who　lay
  nearer　my　heart　than　all　I　had　besides。　　Poor　child；　thought　I；
  what　sorrow　art　thou　like　to　have　for　thy　portion　in　this　world！
  Thou　must　be　beaten；　must　beg；　suffer　hunger；　cold；　nakedness；
  and　a　thousand　calamities；　though　I　cannot　now　endure　that　the
  wind　should　blow　upon　thee。　　But　yet　I　must　venture　you　all　with
  God；　though　it　goeth　to　the　quick　to　leave　you。〃＇97＇
  ＇97＇　In　my　quotations　from　Bunyan　I　have　omitted　certain
  intervening　portions　of　the　text。
  The　〃hue　of　resolution〃　is　there；　but　the　full　flood　of　ecstatic
  liberation　seems　never　to　have　poured　over　poor　John　Bunyan's
  soul。
  These　examples　may